


Twisted Monarchies

by BelleIllumina



Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Reign (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:38:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelleIllumina/pseuds/BelleIllumina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We come seeking our sister. We come seeking our Queen."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Envy

"We come seeking our sister. We come seeking our Queen."

Too soon after a coronation, a visit from foreign dignitaries from an unknown land wasn't one of Francis' agendas. Knowing though, that a ship was docked at their harbor and requested an audience so humbly, he couldn't deny or delay. The plague was put off to the back of his head and the topic of Stephane Narcisse was put aside. Both were pretty much large things, but this threat ( _or was it a blessing?)_ took all his attention. Who wouldn't? When there was a large ship that docked on France's harbor with a grandeur that not even France in all its glory, could compare or achieve. Francis brought his fist to his chin, watching the congregation before him. No, not congregation, it was family. Clearly a family.

"Why are you searching for your Queen? Was she taken from you? Your wife and at the same time sister?" Mary who was doing a grand job keeping her emotions in check. Who would allow in this Catholic country ( _world)_ to allow siblings as husband and wife? Francis watched as the dark haired king smirked in surprise and amusement. This dark haired king took front of the delegation, addressing the court with a mastery that surprised even Catherine ( _Francis saw the intrigue that etched his mother's face.)_ admired. What was more admiring was that, they weren't even as old as his father. Goodness, they were just a few years older than he was. Francis was sure he was a king, the very bearing was enough to tell him it is so.

"My apologies, Your Majesties. I should have thought that introductions are less shocking than why we are here." The stranger placed a hand on his chest. "We are from the land of Narnia, unknown and unheard and farther than you could ever fathom. My siblings and I are hailed as their monarchs, and to answer the gracious Queen, no we aren’t married. "

The two that stood behind him stepped forward with such coordination that only spoke of sharing lifetimes. ( _Francis wondered if he and Bash would achieve such bond._ ) It was like watching the sun rise and the sky turn blue with so simple an action. The eldest brother, a golden haired and warrior bred man ( _never boy or youngster_ ), stared at him with eyes on a day after the storm. The sword strapped on his side was gleaming gold and Francis, being a warrior himself, admired the lion on the handle. "I am High King Peter, Head of my House and dubbed Magnificent."

There was a sigh on the dark haired King's lips, and the man named Peter rolled his eyes.

"Queen Lucy the Valiant." The lady to Francis' left, dipped into a light curtsy, her flower crowned hair bright and happy amid the court's dreary halls. The dagger and cordial strapped around her waist, made Francis consider on giving Mary some weapon of defense.

"I am King Edmund," The cool voice took his attention from his musings once more. "And as I have said, we are searching for our sister. We are searching for our Queen."

Francis wished that this was held in a more private setting, as the whispers that surged after that declaration was well kept but perfectly known. He took a deep breath, raising his gaze to survey what stood behind the three monarchs and tried to understand what was happening. Two wolves, a tiger, and two cheetahs sat on their heels with their gazes glued on the thrones. ( _It made Francis squirm._ ) Larger than what he knew and undeniably well trained.  _(He wondered if they were there to intimidate, or for protection._ ) Behind the animals was a man. A man who decided that black was his color from his hair to his boots and it made his pale skin stand out. ( _Black that seemed to mourn or at least to blend with the shadows._ ) Eyes trained forward but Francis doubted that he was seeing anything. Not that the man was blind, but because he was too deep in thought to even notice.

Francis felt Mary's gaze on him for a moment, before once again hearing her voice. "We have not taken any Queen under our care. I apologize that you have to go here yourselves when you could've sent a messenger to let us know. It would've saved you time and effort. The only queens that we have amongst us are myself and the Queen Mother."

"Believe me Your Majesty," It was Queen Lucy that answered. "We wouldn't even be able to be here if we aren't sure that my sister is here. We do not mean any offense, but Susan can pretty much be anyone she decides to be. If she doesn’t want to be found out as a Queen in a land like this, and all alone, no one would ever know. She disappeared, taken we believe, three years ago. "

"Do you have a portrait of your Sister Queen?" Francis started, finally straightening having reached something that could be of use. The echoes of the whispers grew louder, the pressure almost overbearing. "This would help us distinguish who she is if she is in this court. We can also help spread the word that we are looking for her. I hope and pray though, that she is close by. A few days ago, a deathly plague just ebbed down and we are still suffering its effects." He can feel the disapproving look Catherine sent his way. "I hope your sister is still alive."

"She is." The man clad in black stepped forward with purpose. The kings and queen parted to give him way as he approached the dais. He started pulling at a chain around his neck and completely slipped it off. A smirk, quite confident but still hollow, painted the man's countenance. "Unless you would like a life size portrait, this is all that we have."

Francis held up a hand to stop one of the guards from taking it and just passing it to him. He stood up and got the locket himself. Only meeting the man eye to eye because he was stepping on the dais. The locket was clean and heavy in his hands. A simple square on his palm perfect to fit a small portrait. Opening it, he felt a breath get stuck on his throat. Blinking, he met the stranger's feline like eyes. He whispered, "Who are you to her?"

"I am her husband." The man's eyes were searing and Francis mustered to keep his face neutral. Francis gave a simple nod and returned the necklace, which was quickly replaced where it was. Another nod and Francis turned to Mary this time. The Queen of Scots was already looking at him with a loaded gaze of questions he rather not answer. Leaning to Mary's ear, he whispered his orders and was thankful that her face didn't even twitch.

Mary stood and met his gaze before leaving the room. Kenna and Greer immediately moving to follow their Queen. "Lady Kenna, Lady Greer, stay. Mary is escorted by guards, and there is no need to panic. Only my mother, my deputy and Mary's ladies would stay. The rest are dismissed."

\------------------------

 

 _"Get Lola."_ Two words that put lead in Mary's bones. It was surprising even that she was able to stand firm and keep her expression in check. She wondered if her exit was even graceful to be labeled queenly. She knew what that could've meant. She knew that the delegation that was in the throne room wasn't a hoax. She knew from the moment that they entered and power surged, that they were the monarchs that achieved even more than her predecessors had in lifetimes. 

 

 _"Get Lola."_ She saw the stiffening of Francis' back when he opened the locket. He saw the way the stranger's mouth formed his words. She felt a sickening dread in her stomach when the young Queen Lucy spoke. _If Susan doesn't want to be found, she wouldn't._ Her hands fisted on her skirts. The amusement and the belief in King Edmund's gaze was borderline mocking but the truth... the knowledge in his stance was haunting. How can they be so sure?

 

 _"Get Lola."_ Why Lola? She knew Lola since she was a child. Kenna, Greer and Aylee knew Lola ever since they learned to walk. Why her? Isn't it possible that this Queen Susan is just the same face? How would a woman such as her be taken from a land _too far to fathom_ to France? Would Lola have any knowledge on who this Queen Susan is? Mary shook her head. _Plague. Narcisse and Estelle. Child. Christening._ She breathed deep. _I am Mary, Queen of Scots and France._ _No longer a clueless child._

 

 _"What choice does a common village girl has compared to a queen?"_ Lola's words echoed, her face etched with  
contained fury and her eyes like crystal ice. _"You. You will always have a choice."_

 

Then there was the door to Lola's quarters, and all Mary wanted to do was to run far away. She raised her hand and hesitated for a moment, feeling the heavy gaze of her escorts on her back. _Knock. Knock. Knock._ She took another deep breath, forcing the pressure that was clamping her lungs out and gone. "Lola?"

A few moments of silence. "My apologies Your Majesty, do come in."

 

Pushing the door open was like opening an ancient metal chest. The creaking of the hinges hurting her ears. Lola stood in the middle of her room, gazing down her son ( _Son. Child. Babe. Feel the pain of your loss, little queen.)_ and humming a lullaby. The windows opened wide behind her to cool the small room and what Mary saw for the first few moments was nothing but a silhouette. (" _It's a disappointment that they do not have balconies for many rooms." Lola once said when they first arrived.)_ Mary blinked back the light and straightened her back. ( _"Can I have the room with the most windows?" Lola requested when the bargaining for rooms started. Kenna, Greer and Aylee agreed without complaint._ ) Mary waited, not wanting to break the simple happiness that she already intruded with her presence. ( _"Aligned with the castle, but with distance." Lola asking to be released as a lady-in-waiting. "Outside."_ ) Lola always wanted to be outside. Picnics, trips, walks, she would choose to be as close to outside as possible. Window seats were hers by understanding.

"Hush little one. The lion will watch over you." She watched as Lola placed a solemn kiss on her son's brow. The babe's hands were tangled on her dark curls, waving and pulling. Lola chuckled. "Oh, a fine horseman you will be. I do hope love that you wouldn't use my hair as reins."

The smile on Lola's face faded the moment she looked up to meet Mary's gaze. "What is it Your Majesty?"

 

The gap that was torn with their argument that morning, gaped before Mary's eyes. Only now did she note the confidence in Lola's stance and the perfect blank face that she now gave her. Mary pushed the haunting thoughts out her mind. She knew Lola. She knew the child that she grew up with and she knew that it would mean a great deal of lying for someone to even pose as her childhood friend. How could one know a lifetime if one hadn't lived it?

 

_If Susan doesn't want to be found, she wouldn't._

There was no estranged queen in this place.

 

Mary sculpted a smile. ( _Ever the gracious queen. aren't we?_ ) "Francis wishes that you come to the throne room. There is a matter that needed to be discussed and your presence is needed."

"Can I bring my son? I thought I would have the chance to take care of him today so I sent the nannies to rest. I wouldn’t want to inconvenience them any more."

"Of course. If it wouldn't be too much for the little one."

Lola's smile wasn't for the Queen, but for her son. "Of course it wouldn't. He's her mother's son."

( _There was no pain. Well, if envy isn't pain._ )

 

"Shall we?" It was quite amazing to think that Mary, Queen of Scots and France, was shaking in her bones. The simplicity of Lola's smile and the steady steps she took, made Mary's mind race. A question that she forced to swallow, but echoed in her head. _You are Lola, are you not?_ Mary could only nod. "Can you tell me about why I am summoned?"

Mary swallowed the lump in her throat.

"Ah." Lola's eyes showed understanding and a quiet smile.

 

"H-how is he?" Mary motioned to the child in her arms.

"He will be a strong boy." Lola cradled the boy with a hum, a movement smooth and already mastered.

 

_Envy. Envy. Envy._

_Lies. Lies. Liar._

_Lady. Queen. Sister._

_Why afraid, Mary?_

 

The sounds of the babe's giggling and their footsteps echoed through the halls. Lola's quiet whispers of adoration a scream to Mary's ears. ( _Childless. Heirless. Barren._ )  Was it she that slowed down the pace? Or was it Lola who was now looking at the hallways with concern etched on her face?

 

\-------------------------------------

 

"What are your plans when you find your Sister Queen?" Those were Catherine de Medici's first words the moment that silence settled in the throne room. The animals ( _How quaint. How cunning._ ) were still immovable. Queen Lucy was still smiling. King Edmund, smirking. The High King ( _What a twisted type of monarchy? How would the next generation of monarchy go?_ ) had his hand on his sword handle and as steady as a rock in a storm.

 

"It depends on what situation our sister is in. If she is fine and will be fine to leave this place, severe her ties with her new found friends, then we will leave immediately. If not, then we have at least a month to stay. Is it a month?" Peter looked at Edmund.

"One at least, three at most." Edmund answered readily.

"There is no need for rooms for us Your Majesty, Queen Mother." Lucy held herself with a light grace, as if she was running at a beach with the sun on her face. "We have lodgings in our ship and we have supplies to last through the whole three months. All we wish is to have our sister with us and resolve whatever situation she's in."

 

"Why stay on the ship, we will be glad to arrange rooms for you." Catherine smiled, her mind racing with plans and questions that needed resolutions. "I am sure that wouldn't be too much trouble."

"Our party isn't just us and those who manage the ship. You can consider this trip as a family outing." Peter smiled sheepishly.

"The children are ecstatic to see their auntie after three years." Edmund shrugged.

"How large is your family? I wouldn't allow myself to have you settle in a ship after such a long travel! Especially with children." Catherine was adamant. She wouldn't allow, never would allow, this chance for Francis to learn of how it was to be a king. A better king than his father, and if it would mean to learn from this foreign set of monarchs, Catherine would be damned to let this chance go.

 

A look passed between the four, and the animals ( _What are they for anyway? Pets? Where are their own set of guards?_ ) shifted on their places, ears flicking this way and that. A slight tilt of head and a simple raise of a brow, Catherine watched as a decision was made.

"We will speak to our companions about this arrangement. We will send a message once we have seen our sister and a decision is made between all of us." Peter said with finality.

"I hope the newly crowned monarchs aren't offended?"

 

Catherine froze. Francis straightened. Kenna and Greer exhaled. Bash took hold of his sword.

"No we are not. I understand how it feels to be apart from someone you love."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Edmund's smile never faded.

 

The animals moved, surprising Catherine and making Mary's ladies step back. The unnamed man, Catherine cannot fathom why Francis never asked or no one introduced him, tensed. There was a hush that suddenly took over the whole room. The foreign monarchs looked at the door with an expectancy, an assurance and confidence, that what they have decided was right.

 

The moment Mary showed up with Lola in tow, the baby in her arms started crying, and Catherine could only stop the laughing that tried to escape her lips.

 

_Her? Her? Impossible._

 

"Susan!" Lucy's voice echoed.

 

\------------------------------------------

 

The baby's cries hurt Mary's ears, but the cry of the name was enough to silence everything and made her move. She needed to see, needed to know, the truth that she held close to her heart to carry on being the truth that she deemed to be. Everything followed in slow motion. ( _Like a heart being dragged through a floor of broken glass._ )

 

Shock. ( _was the first emotion._ )

 

Lola's sudden tensing came from the depths of her kind heart and no painter could ever capture the emotion in her eyes. Like twinkling stars they burst, the blue in her eyes so hollow compared to what came after the surge. There was no confusion.

 

Only surprise. ( _Staggering. Quiet. Undeniable._ )

 

Lola's head snapped and her body jerked in a suddenness that left a blur to Mary's eyes. ( _Everything was still so slow._ ) There was a painful ringing in Mary's ears. _"Susan!" "Susan!"_ A name that was rejected by the walls and pushed harshly into her ears. Lola's face changed, the youthful innocence being overpowered by Queen Lucy's powerful own. An innocence that Mary now found quite out of place for Lola.

 

( _An innocence clung to._

_Desperately?_

_No._ )

 

"Lucy." A small smile that shined like shy sunlight.

 

_Lady of sorrows, she that cried._

_Her back bent in service,_

_to siblings that died._

_To friends. To country. To Queen._

 

"Peter." Steadier. A whisper that started a storm.

 

_Hidden thoughts, quiet_

_whispers, simple dreams._

_Straighter the sorrow-lady now stood._

_Tears no longer agony._

 

"Edmund." A wolf's howl to a full moon.

 

_The sun has come to caress_

_from dreary heavens,_

_Sky exploding blue_

_encompassing,_

 

"Susan." Lucy cried as she halted in front of Lola. ( _Susan, a name that seemed lacking when unspoken._ )

 

_The moon that once absent_

_coming full,_

_Welcoming stars now here_

_like lilies thrown in glee._

 

Mary, in all clarity, saw Lola ( _Susan._ ) shuddered with a smile on her face still unwavering, and tears running down her cheeks like crystals. The atmosphere in the room, that she knew Francis felt, now balanced. Darkness and light dancing in perfect harmony. Lucy's hug was tight, yet careful, and the way Lola's face buried into the other's shoulder was a perfect picture of relief.

 

"Aslan's blessings to thee my beloved sister." Lucy's voice resounded like a lion's roar, steady even with her own tears running like rivers. The kiss she placed on Lola's ( _How long would you hold on to that lie, little Mary?_ ) forehead was soft and full of love.

 

"His love and guidance to you, my dear little Lu." The breath Lola released, like a well kept secret that was always needed to be screamed, was that of freedom. And so, Mary found the truth that she kept shattered. A truth taken from her hands and thrown to a wall.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

( _Envy is such an ugly feeling is it not?_ )

 

Sebastian de Pontiers _(Unclaimed. Bastard forever.)_ watched with wonder as the lady that was Lola shed the innocence of a young woman that still stayed with her even after the hell that was French Court. The gentleness that stayed, wasn't only that of a new mother but a woman who lived a life more than a simple lady-in-waiting could compare. He moved closer to Kenna's side, thinking of the pain and confusion his wife must be feeling.

 

"Blessings of the Lion, little one. Son of the South and blood of the Sun." There was no loathing in Lucy's voice when she uttered the words. The understanding he saw in her gaze was humbling, and it wasn't even directed at him. The tender touch that was bestowed was too loving that it was painful. "You will forever be loved. May I carry him Su?"

 

( _Lola was too unsuitable for a lady of her gentleness. He had known it the moment she stood by his sickbed._ )

 

Susan nodded and passed the babe to her sister's ready arms. Like a scene coming to a close, a new one came rushing in. Peter and Edmund moved with a speed and grace that were warrior bred. Large steps and open arms brought Peter to his sister, hugging her and lifting her from the ground. A choked sob escaped Susan and her grip was manifest enough of her longing. ( _Three years. Three long years with majority of it in a court that she barely belongs to._ ) Edmund waited patiently, his emotion in check and his hands folded neatly to his back. The moment Peter let go of Susan though, he rushed in a playful bow before pulling her into a hug. Susan laughed, a tinkling melody where happiness couldn't be denied. Sebastian watched as Edmund's emotions came to spotlight.

 

It was a celebration of the heavens.

 

Peter and Lucy looked down at the babe with fondness. ( _Francis' son. Bastard. Loved, clearly loved and never questioned. A blessing and clearly not blamed as a mistake._ ) The kisses and cooing of the younger woman and the giggles that were the replies made such a happy background. Teasing whispers exchanged between eldest brother and youngest sister, about swords and horses and toys that could be given for the little one. A scene that made Bash remember those commoners that animatedly talked of their wishes for a child's future.

 

( _A thousand if onlys and what ifs painted on walls of a mind's room slowly fading. A picture frame of a family slowly replacing such broken dreams. Now, a wish for a better future. Oh envy, envy, envy what a cunning feeling thou art._ )

 

Bash' arm tightened around Kenna's waist.

 

\---------------------------------

 

 _You're the strong one then._ ( _Tables always turn don't they? Surely you've expected that age old truth?)_

 

The animals whose presence Catherine couldn't determine, now stood in attention with their gazes on Lola. After all the hugs were done, as loving and tear worthy it was, Catherine could never believe when one of the wolves approached the lady-in-waiting then bowed. If wolves can bow and give salute. ( _Trained. Trained in a long arduous way that instills obedience in every form._ )

 

Of course, who would've thought? A seductress, a forger, a spy…surely the strong one wouldn't just be strong. Though, who would expect that she was a queen of her own right?

 

( _Have you never noticed how she could play your games so exquisitely? Have you never wondered…who is playing who?)_

 

\------------------------------

 

There was no time to think or no time to speak. The emotions that broke the dam so carefully built ( _for three years maintained)_ made her heart so pained in happiness. Susan cried silent tears, freedom obtained _(finally, finally_ ), as she reveled on her siblings' presence, reveled in their arms. ( _Reveled in Narnian air, scents, texture, sounds.)_ She stumbled when Edmund released her but was soon in another's arms. Finally, finally, Susan let the sobs strangled in her throat loose. Her sobs muffled by her lips against another. A kiss that pulled her soul out of the drowning swamp that she pushed herself through for three years.

 

_If only you know,_

_You were dressed in lovely white,_

_And him in burnt coal._

 

"You promised me that you will be my moon, as you are the stars to your siblings, to Narnia." Deep voice that no one in the French Court could compare. Strong arms that held her both in love and hate _(loathing, murder, death_ ). The scent of night and forests engulfed her, filled her lungs and loosening the knot in her stomach. Pain, sorrow, agony contained in so few a words, yet to Susan they were expressed in utmost clarity. ( _Like a child taken away from his beloved friend, a friend who stayed through everything._ ) His words only for her, whispered to her skin like a prayer. "You promised me and I tried to understand that this is just a new moon. That you are still there. That you will come back."

 

_You were beautiful,_

_Angel and Devil you looked,_

_A love that's taboo._

 

Susan could only tighten her arms around him, take him in with every breath. Her apologies written with each tear, sung in each shudder and expressed in every quiver of her fingers. The ice he built around him slowly melting through her fingers. "I waited."

 

"I fought the darkness alone." His strong and steady voice cracked.  "I tried to fight, did my best to run. I prayed that you will remember me. I prayed that you will come back."

 

"I am sorry, Ioan. I am so sorry, my dear Wolf." She whispered to his neck, the same way he did to her. A prayer.

 

"There is no need for apologies." She scoffed. He grinned, pulling back to give her a glimpse of the relief in his gaze. ( _It didn't hide the dark circles around his eyes, the weariness in his bones, and the lost look on his face._ ) The tears held back but there. ( _Tears were rare for a man like him. His emotions shut down for years unnumbered, before she ever came along.)_ "For as a Wolf, I will seek you and I will scour heaven and earth."

 

"Well, I think it's settled. We will be taking the rooms, Your Majesties. I do advise that you prepare enough for..." Edmund stepped forward, ever the logistics man, and calculated. "Four families, five ladies in waiting and three knights."

 

"And the animals -- pets?" Catherine asked with a smile but with one end just a tad higher than the other.

 

"Guards. They are our guards. " Susan ( _once named Lola, but Lola too, still_ ) finally found the strength so her voice was steady enough. She was thankful though of Ioan's arm around her waist, and the presence of her family behind her. Narnian air filled her lungs and called for her blood. _Come home. Come home. Beloved Queen come home to me._ "And they will stay with us."

 

"We have a room in the west wing that you can stay in for the time being so we can set the rooms up for you to use for the duration of your stay. Lola...Susan, would like to talk to all of you for a long time." Susan whirled around to  see Mary smiling. ( _Eyes troubled, betrayal leaking out like ink stained tears, and confusion brewing in the very depth of her pores. Susan felt power in her observations and it was exhilarating to claim it as Susan._ ) "Whatever decision you decide on, we will be ready to hear it."

 

"Thank you very much, but we will talk in my quarters." A curtsy she was so used to, came after such statement.

 

She didn't see Mary's surprise, or Francis' gaze. She was too happy.


	2. Deceit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cacophony or intrigue that cannot be sorted out. Especially, when almost all cards are seen by only one.

The silence was deafening. That was Francis' first thought and he felt the need to break it twist in his insides. He could still feel the traces of the happiness and relief that exploded a few moments before. What was left overtaking it now was, darkness. Doubt, shock, confusion...betrayal. He could almost feel it slowly eating the light. He swept a look among who was left in the room. 

His mother was planning, scheming with her eyes on him. He met her gaze, watching as the wheels turned in her head. He would need to know about what she was planning, even to have a semblance of control being king and head of his house. He was sure that Catherine was intrigued as this was a new situation that needed consideration in the great game that she always played. He was sure too, that she was thinking of advantages and uses of the present to move on to a successful future. He needed to know what his mother was planning. That much was truth.

Bash was calm and accepting. Francis could see it in the small smile he wore and the admiration in his gaze. It would seem that he found some sort of closure at the same time. Francis didn't miss his gaze following Jean, and he saw, yet wondered what might be running in his brother's mind . Bash always was considerate and understanding. Francis remembered when Lola was dressed as an angel (A Valkyrie. Bash was adamant.) and Bash just recovered from his injuries. He held Lola in a pedestal of admiration and respect, more and more from that day on. If they weren't puppets played in a whim, Francis could see Lola and Bash happy.

Kenna, was unreadable other than what he could see on the surface. Her countenance was similar to her husband, calm. Yet, Francis knew something else was brewing within those eyes and under her skin. Now that he think about it, all of Mary's ladies were. Greer was wearing a similar expression, but with a worry directed to Mary. Now that he thought of it, the most Francis had interacted with any of Mary's ladies was with Lola. 

Mary, his beloved Mary, was standing by the closed doors. She was breaking, slowly. Overwhelmed by emotions and betrayed by the innocence she held onto through her life. Compared to any of them, Mary was most innocent to the ways of Fate and reality. Living in a convent since she was nine surrounded by nuns and the concept of God's love and his wish for goodness didn't help her at this moment. He could only imagine the emotions churning in her right this moment. He found himself thankful that no guard was witness to any of what happened.

If Lola was a queen as she claimed to be, then Francis would trust her to help him with keeping this matter as private as possible. Lola, among anything was a dear friend and his responsibility.

No longer Lola... He was reminded as he stepped off the dais and went to his wife. How about you? What are you feeling King?

He felt like slipping off and struggling to stand strong to an overwhelming torrent of situations he never imagined himself in. Yes, he had controlled when he was to be King. He decided when he was to be King. He had seized it, taken it when he decided it. He wasn't prepared of what went with the crown. Situations were stretching him at all sides and more often than not, he found himself thinking, I'm just seventeen. He didn't know what to think, what to feel. What he knew was that he shouldn't break. He took Mary in his arms, buried his face to her hair, lending her what he could give. "It'll be alright."

He'll make sure they get through this, even if it would mean they were wounded and crawling. He couldn't help but wonder thought, what kind of monarchy of country were their visitors ruling.

What kind of life did Susan lived before she was forced to be Lola?

> BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK BREAK 


	3. Silver Lining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything becomes slightly confusing on who is related to who.

"The Lady Lola sent this with a note, Your Majesty."  Francis was woken up to awareness with a leather canteen being presented by what he could remember was the guard on Lola's room. Francis schooled his features to hide the surprise and momentary confusion. He took the canteen and the note. "Lady Lola said that it was for the Queen and that she should start her day with it rather than wine."

 

"Did she say why?"

 

"Maybe the note would be of more help, Your Majesty." Francis nodded and thanked the guard, closing the door. He turned to Mary, who just emerged from getting herself dressed for the day. She looked breathtaking, like nymphs that stories could only tell. To Francis, Mary was almost unreal during these moments. Moments of which he felt so unworthy to have her and she would be better off with another who could give her everything she wanted. Not a fumbling boy masquerading as a king.

 

"You look beautiful. This isn't the dress you planned to wear today."

 

"Why thank you dear husband." Mary smiled, tucking his wayward locks away from his eyes. "I thought husbands do not notice such things."

 

"Believe me, we do." He savored her touch, and felt relief that she was smiling again. He was thankful that she was no longer swamped with the emotions she was trying to balance before. He also knew that it wasn't over just yet, but for now, Mary found much needed comfort and assurance. It was enough for him, to look forward to the day. "And it's not just the upcoming motherhood glow."

 

Mary rolled her eyes at him, not even hiding the smile. "What did Lola send for me?"

 

"A...canteen." He passed the said object to her hands and watched as Mary examined it. Her face was contemplative. "Lola said that you better start the day with it than wine."

 

Understanding dawned and her eyes shined with curiosity. "Oh! I didn't know she would have it so quickly."

 

"What is it if not wine?"

 

"I am not really sure. I already told her and I am sure she knows, that water isn't cleanest even to us."

 

"Open it then? Shall I get a cup?" Without even waiting for his wife to give an answer, Francis left her there to get two goblets from the tray that was always set to the side. Returning only to offer both for pouring. Mary only chuckled and uncorked the canteen to do as he requested. They both gave a pause when clear water poured out of the canteen, sweet smelling and undeniably surprising. "W-well, that's surprising."

 

"Water." Mary's wide eyed. Resealing the canteen and setting it aside, she continued. "Clear and clean water."

 

"Well that is something rare." He offered one of the goblets and watched her as she examined the drink. To even come close to drinkable clean water was rare and only the peasants would ever dare drink it. The only reason that they would was there was nothing else. "What does the note say?"

 

Francis did his best to open the folded paper with one hand. "Run water through... instructions for clean drinking water."

 

Mary could only let her smile grow wider in the care Lola had taken to ensure her safety.

 

"A toast?"

 

Mary raised her goblet. "For your son who is my godson," Francis' face brightened. The sun breaking through clouds. "And our child."

 

"To children and happiness."

 

**_BREAK_ **

 

Wolf tracks. Stephane Narcisse stood from his crouch, feeling lead in his stomach and a disappointment curling under his skin. This shouldn't have happened. A guard and wife dead. Wolf tracks already faded and a piece of torn cloth to mock him of his loss.

 

"Do you think she was hunted?" The captain of his guard approached him with a searching look to the cliff. Cliff where his guards were roaming and preparing Estelle's body for a ride home. He honestly thought that being brought to a crowded place would help her. Even if it is for drowning out the voices of her dead family, calling her to the other side of the veil. He thought that maybe she would find friends and stop being the skittish maid so fearful. "She run too fast for the wolf to even take a bite."

 

"It isn't direct pursuit Emile. That is what's bothering me among other things." Narcisse looked back to the forest and tried to imagine how the chase happened. He tried not to dwell on the questions and the suspicions that ran around his head. Estelle was dead. That was that. He was numb to it all. A light snuffed too soon. "I'm going back to the castle and prepare for her arrival. I also have a christening to attend."

 

"Any new orders for the time being?" Emile asked as Narcisse mounted his horse. "About those newcomers that you mentioned. They are monarchs, if I remember."

 

"Of a land too far to fathom. I've no news of what became of them. No one had an idea or was willing to impart it. Those who do, are mere opinions."

 

"But they still have use."

 

"Of course." Narcisse pulled at the reins. "I just need to have the opportunity to use it. Take care of her."

 

"Yes, my lord."

 

Narcisse gave a final look down the cliff that took his wife's life. Misguidance. He shook his head and cleared his thoughts. There was a greater game afoot. He focused his whole mind to the thunder of hooves to reconstruct the mask that slipped. Court was always a headache.

 

The branches above him rustling so suddenly made him slow down and take a survey of his surrounding. He was close to the main road now, and the buzz of conversation and squeak of a carriage. He pulled his horse closer and saw a entourage of blazing red and gold.

 

"Hullo good sir!" Narcisse smiled when the young Queen Lucy paused on her way. Silence came and all attention bored on his presence. "You are one of King Francis' court."

 

"You remember all things Lu." Edmund called back from the front. Peter on his side.

 

"He's the one with the shy but lovely golden haired lady." Lucy turned to him again. "Is she your wife? Or your cousin? Daughter?"

 

"My late wife, Your Majesty." There was a collective hush at the statement. He still couldn't feel the impact of the loss, but he can recognize it. The kings moved closer and the large carriage completely stopped. "She..."

 

"She fell off a cliff." He saddened his tone. "Estelle... her family died of the plague. It's just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I think she wanted to be alone and grieve."

 

"Our condolence...Lord?" Peter's face was polite, yet grim.

 

"Narcisse. Stephane Narcisse."

 

"Lion's blessings to thee." Reverence followed the statement and Narcisse was sure it was special. Lucy continued when the mood passed. "What a downer for a christening."

 

"Well, onward. Your wife is in a better place." Edmund gave him a nod. "Come, I know you are bound to the castle. If we are welcome company even in this dour times, feel free to come with us."

 

Narcisse nodded and a smile bloomed on their faces. Peter gave his shoulder a pat and conversation resumed. The difference was, it was more of an interrogation, most from Queen Lucy. "Do you know the King personally? Have you seen the child?"

 

"I am one of the previous King's friends. As for the child, I haven't seen him."

 

"What do you think of the King?" Narcisse took the chance to examine his surroundings. The carriage's windows were open and children looked out of it with quiet contemplation for their young bodies. With them are women from the look of things. Queen Lucy seemed to be the only one to prefer riding. Two guards rode on their horses on each side of the carriage, making easy conversation with the kids. Another horse was tied to the carriage without a rider. Driving the carriage were two men. The dark cloaked man was the unintroduced companion on the first meeting, and there was another hooded and masked man beside him.

 

"Young." A look was passed and Edmund even rolled his eyes. "Stubborn."

 

"I know of great kings who started their rule much younger than mere seventeen." Lucy's smile couldn't be flipped. "With proper guidance to their visions for a better kingdom, they lived to the names they were crowned for."

 

"That goes the same with queens." Peter intervened.

 

"Such as yourselves?"

 

"Yes." No pride. Just plain truth.

 

"You have much confidence for the monarchs." Narcisse was intrigued, for surely having someone rule younger would need a regent. Even now, Catherine was still hovering. "Hope too."

 

"For King Francis to even reach his age now is a sign of his strength." Edmund's eyes twinkled when he answered. "This land would be through much, but it will survive. Your king and queen have much to learn, but they have good hearts. They just need the right limbs to act on behalf of their kindness."

 

Narcisse gave a hum of approval. "So you are here for an alliance in addition to finding your Sister Queen."

 

"Yes. Successful in one, not so much in the other."

 

"How can you say King Peter?"

 

"Alliance is easy. It's a routine with few adjustments. Family, I hope you understand, is always a more complicated matter."

 

The statement was absorbed by the forest and the earth, while they accepted this ancient truth. "There is a silver lining. Well, a thick silver lining. We saw a familiar face. An old friend. I do not know if you know her. Lady Lola?"

 

"Ah! Yes. The Lady Lola." The image of tumbling curls and almost milk white skin came to mind. Blue eyes that are so expressive and shifting as the sea. "I have met her when the King was retrieving her and his son during the Plague. A curious and caring lass. How did you meet her?"

 

"She visited our court and stayed for a few months. Our tutors taught her with anything that she wanted. In Narnia, we encourage the expression of thoughts and opinions. If you have something useful to say, then better do so. If you have an argument, then say it. A plan? Perfect! I'm afraid her time with us made her outspoken. Her parents would often write to us about how she angered her suitors for her opinions."

 

"We don't regret any of it. She's a smart woman and she should show the world that she is one. If Mary didn't summon her to France, we would've kept her in Narnia as one of our scribes or even a judge. She would be a Narnian Lady, by her own right and abilities." Lucy intervened Peter's narrative. "King Francis did give his word that he would help search for Susan."

 

"Peter?" There was a pause and a head poked out the carriage window, dark hair braided in lace and amused brown eyes regarded them. Peter smiled back and gave her a raised brow. The woman shook her head in amusement. "Your son is getting quite bored of the repetitive scenery and they've already played all the quiet games in pity of Corin and Deanna. "

 

"And it's only my son that is bored, Isla?"

 

"Yes. Deanna is calm as a cloud, though Lucy, your beloved might need some help with stiff arms later." There was a 'No might with that' followed by a hush from within the carriage. Lucy giggled and Edmund nudged her with a smirk. "Would you like a full report love?"

 

"If it wouldn't be a bother." Another amused headshake.

 

Isla cleared her throat. Narcisse could only watch this family dynamic that was so comfortable even in such a strange land. "Althea, Ilianna and Rowan are playing _that game_ with Petra and Aria. Damien and the twins are trying their best to catch up and well, their improving. Though the twins are pretty much their parents' children."

 

"Of course they would be." The dark cloaked man chuckled on his seat.

 

"Oh shut up Ioan." Isla snapped at him without fire. "Getting back, it's Alistair that is bored. He wants to ride Corin's steed and you know what happened the last time. Also, he calls the 'it' of the game quite boring. He's getting restless."

 

"How far into the game?" Edmund asked, his smirk a lot wider.

 

Isla replied with her own. "Three minutes."

 

A whistle. "He must be really bored then. Liah?"

 

"Already promised that they would spar the first free moment they are allowed to."

 

"How long does Althea and the others need to finish the game?" Peter asked after a sigh. Isla poked her head back in and a few moments later came back. "Five to seven minutes for this round."

 

"We'll try to hasten without waking Deanna. That I could promise." Isla smiled at this and then pulled her head back into the carriage to relay the message.

 

Conversation carried on, now of anecdotes and some brief introductions. The moment they came to the castle gates, Narcisse excused himself to prepare for Estelle's burial.

 

**_BREAK_ **

 

The vapid talk around her that was nothing but power play and not so veiled insults, was something trying for Susan. She tried so hard not to shut them all up with a well-placed reply. The best she could do was send Kenna an irritated glance. She was forced to leave Sigvir, her Wolf guard, to some errands. She was sure Kenna would be entertained in watching their reactions if Sigvir was present.

 

It's the quiet ones that made Susan think, and she already noted one of the ladies scheming from the mere tilt of her hand holding the goblet. She also knew the possibilities of what the scheme could be.

 

Susan knew, finally, that she could discover everything with just the flick of her wrist or a few movements of her hands and no one would know how and why.

 

But, this wasn't her territory or her court so she would rather let experience run its course here.

 

She cooed at little Jean who was watching her with eyes like his father's.

 

"Is that... Is that a wolf?!" The redhead _who was chattering away like a chipmunk,_ exclaimed. Susan tried her best not to point out the similarity. She turned to see Sigvir approaching ( _making some people along the way eep and step away in fear.)_ with a steady gait and his dark eyes surveying everything.

 

"Well if a wolf goes by any other name." Kenna gave Susan a smile that she couldn’t help but reply to with her own. Susan crouched and turned Jean to a one hand hold. Sigvir stopped before her and she couldn't help but ran her fingers through his fur and hear him growl in content.

 

"Is that a gift from the King?" Another lady gushed, stepping closer but stopped when Sigvir glared at her. "H-how lovely. He definitely dotes on you."

 

Another growl, this one clearly threatening. Susan chuckled this time. "No, he isn't from King Francis. He is an old friend from a faraway land in a past that you have no idea of."

 

One of the smarter ones, caught on. "You know the monarchs of Narnia?"

 

"Yes." Susan smiled with twinkling eyes. "I lived in their court before."

 

Kenna gave a soft snicker at their shocked faces. Sigvir also scoffed in amusement and nudged her hand. Susan knew he hated being restrained from talking, however quiet his personality was. She wondered how Peter's Cheetahs were coping. Kenna interrupted her thoughts when Sigvir gave another nudge. "It would seem he is saving us from boredom Lola. Something up?"

 

"Oh yes." Susan perked up, standing and turning to the other ladies. "Apologies. We must excuse ourselves as the monarchs of Narnia require our presence."

 

She was good at her game. She knows how to build and destroy, an art that she made sure she was better than most.

 

**_BREAK_ **

 

Ioan could list the things that he hated about this place and it would take days to do so. Ever since the first sight of the desolate castle, he wanted to burn it down to the ground and laugh at how pathetic it was. A feeling he never felt when he looked upon the Cair in the darker days. Looking to his side on the couch, he knew that his kids were thinking the same thing. Well, not exactly, but he was sure it was something along those lines with how Althea's eyes roved on every aspect of the room.

 

_So much like her mother._ He thought with a smile, lighter than the dreary fake ones he showed before. Althea was almost her mother's younger self, ice colored eyes that changed with the light and full lips that looked like rose petals, down to the milky skin. Now that he thought of it, few can deny that she was Susan's child, which could pose a problem. Oh the hair, the hair was Susan's too. Ioan was distracted by the memory of Susan's ( _Lola's. He gritted his teeth to stop a wide grin._ ) curls, a picture he hadn't seen since their 'courting' days. Althea's hair was still stuck between the transition of blonde to brunette. He was surprised when Althea's hair was blonde as a babe and only when he confirmed that Susan was the same when she was a child did he laughed and marveled at it. "Papa?"

 

"Yes Rhys?" Ioan met mismatched colored eyes. Rhys was a worse case than him, one of his eyes Susan's and the other Ioan's. It was almost unnerving to look at, many had said. Ioan would only laugh at such words, Susan would too if she was there personally to hear them. The younger twin.

 

"Would Mama be angry that I don't remember her?" Rhys whispered, being briefed that Susan was Lola here and if they need to use the word Mama, to whisper it really, really low. Also, to make sure that no one other than family can read their mouths. The Pevensie kids were always so smart. Their parents having the perfect regime to balance learning and play.  Icarus, his older twin, heard the question and turned to Ioan.

 

Icarus, who was more Ioan's younger self than a twin to Rhys, couldn't contain his excitement a few moments before the question was asked. Now he was as troubled as his twin. Ioan felt his heart clench and wondered if there was a chance to catch up to the three years Susan missed. The twins were too young when their mother disappeared, and no one can stop him from searching for her, even Aslan.

 

Aslan and his assurance that Susan was safe, that she was alive, and that they would be reunited. Aslan, who he defied for all the right reasons, who looked at him with forgiveness and understanding. Aslan, who was there during his trial, because Susan begged him to. Because who would've thought that a love based on ifs would last such as this?

 

Inside this dreary room with too boring tapestries and with spies posing as guards and servants, Ioan pulled his sons to his lap and hugged them tight. "She would never be angry at you just for so little thing. She would worry too much on you two being angry at her for being gone."

 

"We aren't angry." Icarus said after meeting eyes with Rhys. "Honest."

 

Ioan chuckled. His children who could fool even the High King of Narnia, were unsure on whether their father couldn't read them. "I know pups. I'm your father, I should know."

 

"And also, because he and mama are better liars than any of us here." Althea whispered with a smirk of her own. "Mama would be motherly as usual, though there's also the baby to think of."

 

Ioan chuckled. "Yes, little Jean-Phillipe. He's lovely, smart too."

 

"It's on the female side of the family." Lucy intervened as she plopped on the same couch. Ioan merely rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at her. "Don't you think so Lirin?"

 

The female Wolf, chocolate brown and blue eyed, grinned in agreement. The Tiger who sat by Edmund's chair huffed and nudged the King's knee. The other females in the room laughed merrily and the men just chuckled in good sport. The Animals tensing and nose in the air was enough for the Narnians to be prepared.

 

"Your Majesties?" Ioan stifled a laugh when he heard Susan's voice on the other side of the door. "May I come in?"

 

_Act One, prologue._

 

Edmund stood from his seat and marched to the door, pulling it open with so much flourish that Ilianna snickered. Susan's wide eyes when the door revealed her made Ioan lose all breath. He still couldn't believe she was here, so close, so real, so tangible and still Susan. "With how we know you Lola, you shouldn't even try knocking. Lion knows what you've seen."

 

Susan merely rolled her eyes. "This isn't Cair Paravel, King Edmund."

 

"You have a point. Come on in." The moment the door closed and silence was given a few minutes to reign, Edmund gave her a kiss on her cheek and escorted her deeper to the room. "Welcome home."

 

"Almost home." Althea said with a grin. Susan's smile grew wider and without prompt approached her husband and children. Ioan was glad to be reminded of Susan's countenance brightening up like the stars in the heavens. "Hello Aunt Lola."

 

Susan was clearly holding back tears and Ioan was familiar to this woman, who kept her inner workings from the world but showed just enough to be understood. She crouched to the floor, careful of the babe in her arms. "H...Hello my dear Ea."

 

"Hello Icarus...Rhys." Ioan pushed his sons off his lap and gave them a nudge to move closer to their mother. Althea, without any encouragement, took each of her brother's hands and pulled them with her. Susan's tears flowed freely and her smile still intact. They stopped in front of her with varied expressions, each so precious. "Oh, you grew so beautifully. I'm sorry my dearests for not being there."

 

"It's alright," Rhys whispered slowly, shy and hesitant but full of emotion. "Mama."

 

"Yes, it's alright Mama." Icarus echoed with a steady smile but teary eyes. "Aslan said you were needed elsewhere."

 

"We did miss you though, but we're good. No mischief." Althea let go of Icarus to wipe her own tears. Tears that only Ioan was the one to see when she sneaked into his room _(for three years_ ) at night to talk about Susan and the loss they felt _. "_ Papa did his best, but... it's different"

 

"Of course it would, he doesn’t wear skirts or corsets. I will make up for that. I will." Susan reached out to touch each of their cheeks, wiping tears and making sure they were real. "We'll have not much time here, but I will do my best to let you have the most fun."

 

"Even in this dreary place?" Rhys whispered, surprised that there was something fun here.

 

"Yes. To start, would you like to meet Jean?" At the call of his name, the baby gurgled taking in the information that surrounded him.

 

**_BREAK_ **

 

He was already drowning in his grief being alone in this room that smelled of death and rotting flesh. How many days ago did he saw his son on the very same stage? Death taking them all too soon and too cruel. Estelle lived to her name, a star among mortals. A star that was swallowed by the darkness too soon to shine her best. Guilt gnawed on his insides by the truth that he knew himself as the darkness that swallowed her. It was like fate mocking him that he was never meant to have anything good or of light in his life.

 

His sins weighed him down and tainted him. After all the activities of the day, only now did he felt the gravity and truth of his loss. His every attempt at family was thwarted, ripped off, and dangled before him.

 

"If this is my retribution, then you would know that it would only grow worse." He whispered as he ran his hand through Estelle's hair. He felt tears threatening to fall. "Where would I look for salvation?"

 

Death answered in silence and in it Narcisse grieved. For the lost son, the lost wives, the lost family and chance for even a semblance of happiness.

 

_"You've never been in love?"_

 

No. He never thought himself capable of it. Care, yes, but love? For his son, yes. To anyone? No… not yet. Lola's presence a few moments ago still vibrated in the room, and the faint smell of lilies and roses teased his sense. Fragrance that battled death and glorified it at the same time.

 

_"You've never been in love?"_

 

Like a doe she looked at him with such askance and doubt that he knew, she was among those who fear him. But for her to even ask about such an emotion sparked a interest, because here was someone finally asking about him. Finally asking, wanting to know more, about who the man underneath all the smooth talk and confident bearing was.

 

_"You've never been in love?"_

 

Such caring and gentleness, Narcisse thought. He remembered her confusion, shock and care the first moment she saw Estelle caged. Her defiance flared for a few moments when he stopped her, and how cool logic made her follow his words.

 

_"You've never been in love?"_

 

Narcisse swiped the tears that slipped and ran his fingers through Estelle's hair. Then, he laid a kiss on her forehead, ignoring the grime, the wounds, and the death that clung even when all was already taken.

 

_"Well, onward. Your wife is in a better place."_

 

_Onward indeed._

 

**Author's Note:**

> Can be found on FF.net of the same title.


End file.
